Reflecting on God's Goodness by Steph Beth Nickel

As writers, we may look back over the year and reflect on what we've accomplished or what we've failed to accomplish.

Either way, there are benefits to reflecting on our writing and writing-related goals through the lens of God's goodness.

When we made our plans w-a-y back at the end of 2021, we didn't know what the following 12 months would bring. And for some of us, that's an understatement to say the least.

Every year, I make plans and set goals. (This is one of my favourite things to do.) Throughout the year, I update those goals. 

I, unlike many people, don't mind dreaming big on paper (or the computer screen) and then bumping things to the next week, month, or even, the next year.

For several years, I've dreamed of indie publishing two or more books annually. Could I? Quite possibly, but it hasn't happened yet. And that's okay.

The good news! I've gotten back to writing the YA spec fiction I started two or three years ago during NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month. A number of individuals have encouraged me, although they only recently found out about the project. Never underestimate what a kind word to a fellow writer might mean to them.

What will happen with this book, what I hope is the first in a series? Only God knows. But I need to push past "the murky middle," where my enthusiasm for a project typically dies out, and persevere. Those encouraging comments by a couple of individuals went a long way to motivating and energizing me. God used them to spur me on.

As I mentioned, I'm great at dreaming big. However, I also put the "pro" in PROcrastination.

I'll do better tomorrow—or next week. This thought runs through my mind a lot.

Sometimes, I fail to achieve my goals because I put too many things on my To-Do List. Sometimes, it's because I've become an expert at procrastinating.

Still, as I reflect on the goals I achieved—and those I didn't—it's important that I do so prayerfully. As I set my goals for the coming year, I intend to let my imagination soar. But I also intend to ask the Lord for wisdom, so I can know what projects He wants me to focus on in 2023. 

While I began working on my coauthor, Paralympian Deb Willows, on the follow-up to her first memoir, Living Beyond My Circumstances, an embarrassingly long time ago, we have made strides forward this year. We have begun to meet online every 1-2 weeks, and I did have the opportunity to spend the best parts of a week with her, working on the book and enjoying our friendship. 

God caused our paths to cross, and Deb has been an inspiration and an encouragement to me over the years. She has had an especially rough go of it over the last few years. Because of it, the book, tentatively titled Keep Looking Up, will be much different than we originally intended. On the positive side, it has the potential of impacting readers in a powerful way. 

So, even though I didn't work on this project as diligently as I would have liked to, I see God's hand in it all. Learning to balance my understanding of God's sovereignty and my responsibility to accomplish the tasks before me is an ongoing endeavour.

Although I haven't achieved anywhere near what I had hoped to this year, I have seen God's goodness at work in my life. How about you?

What is one writing goal you've made steps toward accomplishing this year?

What is one unfinished project you would like to complete in 2023?

What is one specific priority you believe God has for your writing life?

Whether 2022 has been incredibly productive or filled with unexpected challenges that have kept us from accomplishing the goals we set for ourselves, let's ask ourselves how we can see God's goodness through it all.

The Dusty Path to Saintly Glory

A Lenten Reflection

by Dayna E. Mazzuca

I gave up chips, popcorn and cheezies for Lent. When the pastor put the ashes on our forehead on Ash Wednesday, is this what he meant? That we would remind ourselves of the scripture that we are dust and to dust we shall return by giving up treats for 40 days before Easter (excluding Sundays).

QUESTIONS AT LENT 

Do small self-denials teach me about the big sacrifice of Christ on the cross? Can a hint of suffering inform my soul about the larger reality of sanctification on the basis of the Atonement?

Didn’t Christ die so I might have a more abundant, prosperous, joy-filled life? How does sorrow (small and large) grow my soul?

These are the questions raised at Lent. Perhaps denying myself big-bowl treats does not speak of true suffering. Perhaps my small gesture even risks mocking the painful realities that can invade lives, changing us forever. Or, perhaps foregoing simple pleasures starts me thinking along different lines,  renewing my mind and causing me to hunger after God in a deeper, more meaningful way. When I took time to walk down the street with my family to a simple evening Ash Wednesday service, did I realize the implications, or did they matter? Or was a gesture of alignment with the larger Church calendar and its built-in spiritual rhythms help keep me in step with a story I cannot tell alone, but must speak—in word, action, gesture and reflection—with others who have gone before and will come after us?

A participant in a larger, ongoing, majestic story, I felt the dusty ash from last year’s palm branches pressing into my forehead, marking me as the same as every other person in the room: common dust along the Way.

The dusty ash brings the story full circle. When once we waved Christ on, celebrating his arrival in Jerusalem, assuming he was on the path of glory and taking us there with him, the palm branches waved, yet less than a year later they are burned for ash. There is a sense of the broad sweep of humanity—all our up’s and down’s, our pains and pleasures—being part of God’s story with us. Christ was cheered. Then he was mocked. Christ was crucified. Then he ascended. There really is no end to this story, although he said on the cross those final, comforting words: “It is finished.”

AN UNENDING FINISHED WORK: no small thing

It’s a finished work on the cross, a finished work with a thousand points of entry, as long as it’s Christ we seek. He is the gate. He is the way. 

If he teaches us to be satisfied with him, then I think self-denial might serve to clarify the sole object of our soul’s hunger. 

 

 As much as we are dust, we are destined for glory. There is more to enter into with God than we can hope for or imagine. And I wouldn’t want to miss a bit of it, so I observe Lent in my own, small way. And think of bigger things: like suffering, dying, and the promise of resurrection. All of it contained in a spiritual season marked by the most unremarkable of events: basic, human self-denial. All for the sake of Unshakeable, Everlasting Glory: no small thing indeed.

VISIT DAYNA - www.daynawrites.com

God's Goodness to Our Country by Connie Inglis

Today is a day for remembering--remembering the freedom we have and thanking God for those that gave us that freedom.

I grew up in small-town Saskatchewan, in freedom, especially from a child’s perspective. My neighbour knew your neighbour and the house on the other side of town knew exactly whose kids those were playing cops and robbers in the empty lot across the street. War was the farthest thing from our minds, especially for my siblings and me who grew up under Mennonite traditions. Our family history did not even include soldiers gone off to war.

Years later I was confronted by the opposite scenario in the country of Myanmar—a country crippled by leaders who offer anything but freedom. Leaders who fight with their own to retain status and power, without moral conscience. I was so far from my childhood. Yet it was there that my husband and I were called to be—to help minority language groups, specifically, to help a group in Myanmar, oppressed and seemingly forgotten. And it was there that I saw their hope in Aung San Suu Kyi, their figure of freedom. 

 
This woman, burdened by her people’s plight, helped form a new political party in 1988, the National League for Democracy, and she became its leader, embodying democracy and freedom for her nation. In 1990 her party won the election and she became their new Prime Minister, but then was instantly squelched by the military junta. Suu Kyi was put under house arrest and has been under house arrest for much of the last 20 years and was finally released in 2010. She gave up her freedom; she gave up her rights to see her children; she chose to remain in Myanmar as her husband lay dying in England. She gave up all.

I cannot fathom her burdened heart. I try to imagine walking in her shoes but I cannot. She seems superhuman and yet she is not. Bono, from the group U2 sings about her all too clearly: 

You're packing a suitcase for a place none of us has been
A place that has to be believed to be seen
You could have flown away
A singing bird in an open cage
Who will only fly, only fly for freedom

Walk on, walk on
What you got they can't deny it
Can't sell it or buy it
Walk on, walk on
Stay safe tonight

And I know it aches
And your heart it breaks
And you can only take so much
Walk on, walk on.

(“Walk On,” All That You Can’t Leave Behind, 2000)

Aung San Suu Kyi refused to give up. Yet we know not how history will be written for this country.
 

Then the contrast: Canada, the “true north strong and free.” No longer do I turn off my mind when I stand for our anthem. Now it brings tears to my eyes, every time. God has been and continues to be good to us. I want to remember and be thankful. Seeing the situation in Myanmar has helped me do so. It has given me a tiny taste of what our soldiers fought for at Ypres, at Normandy, at Passchendaele. Our soldiers prevailed and world’s history was written. Canada’s history was written, granting me peace and freedom. 

I do not want to forget. I want to wake every morning thankful to God for freedom. I plan my own day. I make my own choices. I voice my own convictions. As a child I did not understand that I was living in a free country. Today I do. Yet, my friends on the other side of the globe hope for freedom. I weep with a broken heart for them. I weep with a joyful heart for us. 

       

A Song in the Morning - Janet Sketchley

As a little girl, I used to bounce out of bed early, chattering and ready to play. Somewhere all that changed. Most days in my adult life have started with resentful thoughts toward the alarm clock and an excruciating crawl out of sleep’s warm embrace into a cold and dreary morning. At least that’s how it feels, even in July with sunshine and birdsong.

I’ve dreaded waking up, dragging into another day’s responsibilities with insufficient energy and less joy. Somewhere on the planet are people who spring wide awake and alert, fully rested and eager to get going. If you’re one of them, congratulations but please don’t tell me.

Occasionally I wake knowing something exciting waits in the day: a trip, or any of the days I’m at Write! Canada. I’m still low-energy, but it’s easier to get moving because I look forward to what’s waiting.

Once, I woke feeling happy. Must have had a lovely dream. Dreams that encourage me spiritually or suggest intriguing stories let me wake with more cheer, as do the mornings when there’s a song in my head before the radio comes on.

I notice the music connection even more since CBC Radio 2 changed its format. Without the gentle classical music that used to comfort me in the waking, things have gotten harder.

Not long ago, I woke one morning with a worship song drifting through my mind and something finally clicked. I thanked God for the song, for how it made it easier to accept being awake. And that night I asked Him to please do it again.

He did.

Each night I ask, and each morning there’s part of a worship song to smooth my transition into the day. Focusing on the lyrics instead of just coasting on the tune brings me into God’s presence to start the day with Him.

I can’t say I look forward to mornings yet, but the dread is gone.

God is good.

© Janet Sketchley, 2008
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For devotionals, reviews and conversation, stop by Janet Sketchley's blog, God with Us: Finding Joy.